Writing their Own Happy Ending
by LizMcGiz
Summary: The four unlikely people that meet at the Upper East Side, isn't very unlikely at all. Why? It's because Quinn had planned the first half, and the second half belonged to Dan Humphrey. Dan/Quinn, Rachel/Chuck, Dan/Blair, Faberry - Unsure endgame.
1. Prologue

In the Upper East Side, everybody had to make their way up the desperate social ladder in high school. Well, they were _all_ wrong. It was a time where it was _definitely_ emphasized, that social hierarchy was one of the most important things in order to survive. People under that ladder would kill, or other times deal with it in a very different manner and approach. Making lists showing that hierarchy lived amongst them, and those on top, weren't going to be the easiest people to live with. Authority would tell them that it's the character that would define the person and not the social status.

But that's where they're wrong, and they knew how wrong they really were.

They wouldn't tell those broken souls how tough life really was, and in the end, it was going to bite them in the ass. Luckily, Quinn Fabray grew up knowing and practically being thrown in social situations wherein proper decorum and attitude was practiced. Her parents were elite socialites that raised her to follow in their footsteps.

Oh, how ironic how she turned out to be.

Quinn was a photo journalist, something her parents would disapprove of because of lack of sense of livelihood, and they'd think that it's something Quinn could do _'just to pass the time'_. But Quinn would prove them wrong, and show them how fulfilling the career would be, she loved every single second of it, from interviews to taking photos, editing and all other sorts of investigative journalism and its rewarding activities.

Why Quinn went to New York wasn't because she thought The New York Daily was the best fucking paper around, or because she loved the idea of celebrities and important people getting to read her pieces, well it _would _nice for those lovely things to happen, but it wasn't the main reason she chose to be based here.

New York City is where she decided to woo Rachel Berry, her former rival, who seemingly has shared a mutual connection with her during their graduation at Lima, Ohio. The diva had confessed her undying love, but never gave Quinn a chance to speak, as they say in the movies, it all happened so fast. The brunette had kissed her and left her facing the hall alone, speechless, trying to register what had happened.

Quinn Fabray was never so lost, but of course, she wouldn't let anyone know how lost she was.

/

Dan Humphrey on the other hand was a man of power, engaged to fashion designer, daughter and heir to Eleanor Waldorf Designs, Eleanor Waldorf-Rose's daughter herself, Blair Cornelia Waldorf. Whoever would have thought that these two would eventually couple up, nobody knew, and Serena van der Woodsen swore she'd never love again, because her best friend, no matter how close she was to her, had been engaged to her step-brother, also known as the only man who saw her for who she really was.

It was perfect really, Daniel Randolph Humphrey, the successful author of '_Living Under the Ladder', _a book about how social hierarchy has destroyed people's humanity, and how money and gifts were the way to people's hearts instead of love and romance. His reviews were generally mixed, hated by the Upper East Side, which is how he planned it, and loved by those undermined by the cruel society. How Blair fit in the situation was easy, she was his muse, and every time he'd write something fantastic about it, it would be around her, and that's when he knew he was getting into a mess he would never be able to fix once broken. So he made sure he'd never have to reach a point where all the fragments are in pieces.

Now when the two had announced their _unlikely_ pairing up, Serena and Chuck took two tall glasses of red wine from the butler who conveniently (or _not_, knowing Blair…) passed by them holding a tray of six, he then proceeded to the happy couple who gave their first toast with the remaining pair of glasses. Lily and Rufus had kind of expected it, but their expressions of discomfort meant that they weren't really sure, Eric had known all along and simply clasped his hands in enjoyment, and Jenny could have slit Blair's throat, but we're lucky Nate's with her, an arm around her waist and a kiss to her forehead made everything better for her.

Two years ago that had happened, and six months ago they were engaged, Dan Humphrey was on top of the world.

/

Rachel Berry lived in New York, New York and she adored everything about the state, from the great statue, the tallest building, the grand square and basically the people around her. She had met thousands and thousands of people just because she was on broadway, and her transition from a high school teenager who could only reach the dream in dreams to an in-demand on-stage actress was definitely progress.

She had worked hard, and she knows she got what she'd deserved.

One night after a performance of Les Mis, she received an _anonymous_ white rose on her dressing room table. She smiled at the flower, knowing no one at all who would send her something so romantic, and although she was elated at the sight, she couldn't remove the feeling of guilt or expectation that it was from someone from her past.

It wasn't, because it was from a suitor who sent her roses after every night's performance, and Chuck Bass always got what he wanted.

/

Now as for Charles, being the third most powerful ruler of the empire in history, the first being Bart, and the second, Jack, he was the primal god in the eyes of businessmen in their world of black and white. He never had the appreciation for the arts, but ever since Blair took him to the first official screening of West Side Story, and meeting rising on-stage actress, he couldn't stop seeing plays with her.

Yet, another reason for Blair to break it off with him, she'd honestly thought he'd changed, and indeed he did, but it was for the worst. Chuck became obsessed, seeing every show Rachel starred in, going to every press conference and signing, even offering her own record label because he couldn't stop listening to it, he wanted her like Indiana Jones wanted the rarest artifact in the world.

But to Charles, she was even more than that.

/

_December 12, 2016_

Quinn had bought the latest Playbill magazine off the stand and she saw Rachel on the cover, not that she was surprised or anything, but it's what her headline read, '_Broadway Actress Rachel Berry, Engaged?_' which enraged Quinn, and made her remember things only Puck would be able to reiterate. It was bad, and she needed a drink… or two.

"There was a man in the picture." She told the other person on the line "Charles Bass, it says." She added.

"Oh yeah, I know him. Just go ahead, there's a place called '_The Empire_', I'll put it on you GPS." The man said.

"Thanks Nate." Quinn said, and hooked on her GPS to make her way to the empire.

/

Loud music, dancing girls, throng of people, bodies mashing together in old fashioned adrenaline rushes, dark atmospheres, the occasional shouting ladies, the more occasional moping ladies by the bar, and the guy who comes to save them.

"You seem intoxicated." A man in a blue suit approached a blonde who was busy playing with her dirty martini in the bar, "Why don't we kick it up a notch," the man cockily slid his hand on her thigh and she kicked him away with her leg, yet she was too intoxicated to aim, the martini fell from her hand to his head, and she just laughed.

The man grew angry, and it was obvious that his temper took control of him in certain situations. He lunged to grab Quinn, but before he was able to move, he'd been kicked from behind by a certain Dan Humphrey.

"I see someone hasn't been taught any manners." He said slyly, raising his left hand from his pocket and waving two fingers at security to dump the man outside the bar, he smiled to himself, praising a heroic deed and eyed the blonde he'd just saved. She was wearing a red dress, for a formal occasion, he presumed, but she was alone, and being Dan Humphrey, he wanted to make sure she was okay. "You okay there, miss?"

"You're Dan Humphrey." She smiled at him, and he smiled back, because no one has ever noticed him, quite like her before.

"Quinn Fabray, the New York Daily. May I buy you a drink?"


	2. One, Remind Me Again

Three hours from now and the plane from Paris, France would land safely in New York City.

"_You sure you don't want me to pick you up myself?" Dan asked his better half two hours before she boarded the said plane._

"_Don't worry, my sweet Daniel." She said menacingly, never removing that tone she used on him even before they started dating, "I'll come back to you safe and sound." She waddled around the Parisian airport, suddenly reminded of the time she was wooed by Prince Louis, "I don't want to trouble you," Now she used the guilt-driving voice, making Dan shudder. "I'd rather you sleep so you'd have plenty of energy for later." She was so certain Dan was on his knees now._

"_If you're sure, I'll send Cameron. You know he's my finest." He smiled, and Blair felt its warmth._

Which meant it was 6:30 AM, and Dan was fast asleep on his sofa, wearing a Hard Rock Café (despite Blair's constant rants of burning those into nothing, he just wouldn't) shirt and Brown Striped Pajama Pants. Why he was sleeping there was a result of certain events with a certain photo journalist named Quinn Fabray.

_He had been a fan of her work, if he was being completely honest, and he could discern that the feeling was mutual. Quinn babbled all night long about the habitual effects of the European Style of growing up, which was a major issue that he pointed out in his book, but only in subtext, which proved Quinn a critical reader. He complimented her on her articles about the cruel business world in New York, and the dirty crimes it lead in Nevada, more specifically in Las Vegas. The two chatted for what it seemed like centuries, but as soon as Quinn couldn't form a simple coherent sentence in correct structure, Dan knew it was time to hold back the drinks._

_Quinn Fabray disagreed to the gentleman's gesture. She wanted… she needed more of that gin & tonic._

_She started to wail and complain, and it was causing a scene. Dan Humphrey wasn't known very much for his book, but since his parents __**are**__ the Rufus and Lily Bass-Humphrey, it was still easy enough for people to recognize him. He calmed the blonde down by giving her a Black Russian (which really was just coffee and a drop of alcohol) and asking Chuck's men to help him carry her to Chuck's suite upstairs. Unfortunately, these men had quite a few drinks themselves and started disrespecting the blonde (as if she were aware, but she looked like she was enjoying the attention) therefore enraging Dan who made a mental note to add corrupt handy men at disposal to his next book. He opted to bring Quinn to Chuck's suite himself, but ever since the Blair incident, he hasn't seen the man face-to-face._

_He rolled his eyes at his next and possibly last move: To take her home himself._

7:13 AM, Dan languidly rose from his somewhat peaceful slumber and began to make coffee for himself. The paper was at his table, brought by his trusted butler, Jeremy just as it was every day. And he wanted to make waffles, but Blair was never a fan of the Humphrey-style breakfast (unless breakfast came after sex, which he was flexible about, almost 80% of the time), so he chose to make a salad for her instead, but cook some bacon and eggs for himself, since he really wouldn't survive the morning's agenda without protein in his stomach.

/

Quinn stirred at the heavenly scent of her one and only guilty pleasure, being reminded of her _bacon deprivation_ incident at the home of Noah Puckerman, she still hated his mom for it, but she'd never tell anyone. A few more minutes of sleep ran through her mind before she realized that she couldn't quite remember how she got there. She rose too quickly for her liking which resulted in her head being pounded by several mallets from various directions, she pinched the bridge of her nose with her index and thumb; she opened her eyes to a variety of shades and tints of orange. Peach linens, marmalade interior, orange wall-ceiling intersection border, whatever it was called. Quinn was never a fan of decorating, and because of it, she hired her own, and she certainly wasn't in her home.

Inspecting her own self, she noticed she was still in the same clothes from the night before or something like that (she could barely remember). She tiptoed her way to the loveseat and grabbed her coat and slipped on her heels before she attempted to escape the home she'd just thought she'd wrecked.

_They'd been speaking for hours now, and each time she'd muster the courage to tell him she'd head on home, he'd bring out an interesting topic she'd want to answer with thrill and heartiness. They never seem to run out of things to say, or drinks to consume, it was just time that ran out, and probably part of her consciousness._

_Because the next thing she knew, she was being held on by men that seemed to appear out of nowhere._

_Dan had rescued her though, again. Or so she thought. Was it Dan? Did she even meet this man who was full of wit and charm? Or was it just another illusion. She didn't know, and she certainly didn't have the mental capacity to care._

Jesus Christ, this is their home. Quinn said to herself, it was a brightly lit penthouse suite that belonged neither to Nate (because she'd been there for numerous occasions) nor Blair's (because her suite had been featured numerous times on the Daily), but she presumed it was Dan's because it said a lot about him. There was a furnace at the center, indicating the warmth and kindness from his heart, abstract paintings of monotonous colors which meant his visual was blocked by words and time, and the smell of coffee and home-cooked meals, which was a little cliché for an engaged man, but Quinn Fabray did not bother telling him she knew, but then again, maybe she was just being over-analytical.

His back was facing her, and she felt the sudden guilt and consequences if she'd just left without a word. Dan had been all too kind with letting her stay in his place at the risk of his fiancé finding out, or presuming the worst when she returned (_Quinn worked in the Daily_, the man repeated to himself), so instead she gave a mock cough to announce her presence. Dan grabbed the towel inserted between the garter of his PJ pants and the skin beneath it, wiped his forehead and loosely let it hang on his shoulders. He smiled at her and continued frying the bacon, suddenly remembering why he panicked last night in the first place.

"Morning, stranger." He said playfully. "Take a seat, there's plenty of room." He motioned Quinn to sit at the round table that looked like it belonged to an 80's Vegan Diner, which was also a bright, yet ceramic orange. Dan then set the cover, filling her glass with orange juice and then having the bacon put in front of her. Quinn practically drooled all over the place. "Guess where I learned you loved that."

"Paper. Can it be more of a sunshine palace in here? God." She said, taking a mouthful, only to spit it back out in an unladylike fashion, they laughed.

"Easy. It's still sizzling." He reached for her orange juice, and their fingers met, then their eyes. "I need to make a phone call." He said randomly, and took the phone from his jacket pocket. He dialed 4 on the speed dial, and a man picked up, a voice Quinn recognized.

"Hey Nate, I need a favor. Could you bring a car here? What? Oh no, I understand." He looked at Quinn who was sampling his salad that was lying flat on the table. She looked at him and he gave a thumb up, and settled the hand at the back of his head. "Oh really? Great, wonderful." He smiled, laughed even, "Like, right now. Really." Dan said with concern. "Alright, see you." Dan said, and dropped the phone back.

"Hey, I'll be on my way. I don't want to cause trouble with the fiancé. But thank you, you're too kind." Quinn said standing up before the man before her grabbed her forearm.

"No, stay, eat." He said, dropping his hand, and resumed to consume his food. Quinn did as told, and they chatted again. Dan offered her a coffee, but she said the juice was fine, other than she wasn't a coffee addict like the entire population of New York City, it was also evident in her news features about the cuisine at NYC that tea was her source of strength and wisdom. Time passed by so smoothly again, and Quinn's head began to ache. Rocking back and forth, back and forth, she couldn't help but press her hands to her temples, before Dan offered her some Aspirin.

"You drank too much last night." He announced, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, by the way. He slid the pills in front of her impassively, as if he did it every day, which he could have, but she'd rather not know.

The door burst open suddenly and the voice of victory was at show, "I'm home!" She'd announced, with Dorota behind her carrying a good three dozen shopping bags from Paris. "Daniel! Where are you?" She said, and Dan ran like a puppy who finally found his master.

_Shoot. Where the hell was Nate when you needed him?_

"Your flight landed a little early dear." Quinn heard the shrill in Dan's voice as she watched him give her a light peck on the lips. His hands cupped her face as his eyes doted on the brunette, he gave her an Eskimo kiss and Blair couldn't help but giggle. "How was Paris?" He asked, then snaked his arms around her waist. Blair then began to tell him countless tales of France and how horrible room service was during the wee hours of the morning, Quinn sat awkwardly and felt betrayed because the man seemed to have forgotten her existence, but she was spotted by a very keen Dorota, who was trying to tell her lady, but Blair wouldn't listen. Blair finally snapped during the elderly woman's 15th plea.

"What is it, Dorota?" The elderly woman simply pointed her index finger at the kitchen counter where Quinn lazily smiled and gave a wave. Blair dramatically pushed Dan away as he tried to calm her down with the use of his palms on her shoulder.

"It's not what you think." Dan said, Quinn shook her head, but the smile remains on her face on how cliché it was.

"Please, Ms. Waldorf. Have some breakfast." Quinn taunts and Dan faces her with a face that made her suppress all laughter. He even mouthed the words '_I will kill you' _just so they were clear, but Quinn was in a playful mood.

"Listen you skinny bitch, if you think you could break into my home, eat with my _fiancé, _and practically mock me…" Blair choked on _mock_ but was cut off by a man carrying three coffees and a paper bag from Starbucks who intervened in a very confused manner. _Thank God_, Quinn thought she'd never be so happy to see the elevator doors open behind the three, and grabbed her things and snaked an arm to Nate's torso.

"Is there a reason why Blair's shouting at my girlfriend?" Nate announced naturally, even holding his hand up in an annoyed fashion, Dan gave a sigh of relief.

"She stayed the night here, she slept with my fiancé! She's a dirty, slutty…" Dan's hand found Blair's mouth as the other rubbed her shoulder.

"They spent the night here, Blair." Dan said, his eyes then flickering to Nate as he nodded and Quinn was still laughing at how hilarious this all was, obviously still stoned. She brought her face closer to Nate's as he kissed her forehead, and Dan felt a tinge of guilt. He lied, but hey, it was practically a sport in the Upper East Side. Blair calmed down and turned to face Dan and hugged him. Dan nodded at Nate and the man shot back a nod, and squeezed Quinn closer to him asking if she was ready to go.

/

Rachel Berry was with Jesse St. James, as weird as it may have sounded, the tabloids mentioned that he was her new boyfriend as she was taking Chuck Bass for a fool. Of course, this got to Gossip Girl (actually it was on there before the tabloid itself) and Chuck rushed to her scheduled theatre and almost beat her up before the guards literally threw him out. He screamed "I'm Chuck Bass! I'm Chuck _fucking_ Bass!" over and over, the limousine finally arrived and he had no choice but to get in. Well, he did, but getting arrested again would hurt his business.

Rachel immediately fell in Jesse's arms, she was crying and all she wanted to do was cry, Jesse just patted her head and tried to get her comfortable, but she just shook, and she wouldn't stop shaking. Chuck Bass had just assaulted her, simply because he thought she was cheating on him.

Heck, they weren't even together.

Jesse may have been Rachel's ex-boyfriend, he may have used her to get what Shelby wanted, and ever since _that_ story came out, everyone just kept assuming the worst. Especially a Charles Bartholomew Bass, like Blair said, the man was obsessed with the uprising broadway star. This could hurt both of their careers.

/

"What do you mean I have to write about that, Clarisse?" Quinn screamed into her phone as Nate furrowed his brows at her in annoyance.

Analogy, Quinn and Nate is to Rachel and Jesse.

"Listen, Fabray, this story's going to be big!" Clarisse said back, "It hasn't been leaked yet, and you're lucky Hans was there for his regular… cardio exercise or something."

"You mean his stalker-ing, perverted ways?"

"Hey, you don't get to talk about him that way, Fabray. I want it done by Friday." She had a week to complete it. It wouldn't be that hard would it?

"And if I don't want to do it?" Quinn said with conviction.

"Then this is an ultimatum, sweet heart." She clutched the phone too tight, and if it were a quarter of a pound stronger, the phone would've ceased to exist. "Get me that story, or you're done for." Clarisse hang up and Nate had finished their drinks. He handed the brandy glass to Quinn who declined it because of her growing headache and annoyance at her "boss" who kept treating her like shit.

"What happened?" Nate asked, in a big brother tone.

"Chuck harassed Rachel."

"What?" Nate said.

"Chuck assaulted her, like, physical abuse and scat." Quinn said.

"I heard what you said!" Nate replied, squinted his eyes and his laid his hands flat out, gesturing her to stop. "Chuck wouldn't do that."

"They want me to write about it, Nate." Quinn thumped her head on the sofa, agony coursing through her veins. "And I don't want to."

"Then don't." He said comfortingly, placing his hand on top of hers.

"I have to." She said, grabbing it. "And if I don't, I could lose my job." Nate scooted beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to cry.

You see, Nate had literally been her first friend ever since coming to New York. She'd bumped into him on her way to her new apartment and the cab driver in the taxi she rode was less than friendly when he began asking for more than what the meter had stated. The two had gotten into a fight before Nate who was waiting for the said cab, and just paid the guy off. The first words he'd uttered to her were "He's a jackass." And the two were friends ever since. Nate even tried to court her, just like his other female friends, but after her admitting her sexuality to him, the two were inseparable. Quinn was honest to him, and when Nate had trouble with Jenny, she'd be the first person he'd call.

"I know what this is about." He said, rubbing his hand up and down her exposed arm. She just sighed into his chest as their fingers laced together. "Let's say you and I have dinner tonight? Just you and me? Then maybe you can think about it." He smiled, but as if on cue, his phone vibrated, it was a text from Jenny telling him not to forget about _their_ dinner plans at the Waldorf's.

"But you told Blair that you and _I_ were together. She's going to suspect something if you show up with her." Quinn reasoned, she really needed Nate right now.

"Jenny and I aren't allowed to see each other. We pretended to break up." Nate confessed, "but why don't you come as my date tonight then?" He cooed, a smile formed on the corners of his mouth.

"How could I say no to you, Archibald?"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'll be the first to say that I totally screwed up by getting Lea confused for Rachel. It was all a Jesse / Jon Groff thing, but I got it fixed so don't worry.**


	3. Two, He Said He Was Sorry

_Good Morning, Upper East Siders. _

_Do I have a delicious treat for you, early this morning we spot Nate Archibald walking away from the coveted Waldorf-Humphrey Estate with an arm possessively grabbing on to the waist of some unknown blonde that isn't Serena van der Woodsen, or Jenny Humphrey. Although sources confirm that this mystery mistress is indeed new to the ravish lifestyle of the Upper East Side, it appears little _too _coincidental that it's the day of our dear B's return from Paris. Could it be that our knight in shining Armani not only saved the mistress today, but the King Himself, as well?_

_It's just a regular Saturday Morning, fellow Upper East Siders._

_xoxo, Gossip Girl_

_/_

"What the flying..." Jesse St. James murmurs as he shuts the door to Rachel's apartment expertly.

"Flying what?" Rachel asks, as she smiles and kisses his cheek, obviously not being able to hug her best friend as he had two large paper bags in his hand. "Hey, Jesse."

"Rachel." He snaps closed his phone, hurriedly attempting to hide it before Rachel remembers.

"What was it you read?" _Damn_, inwardly he cursed.

"It's Ron. He said I had to go for an 'early rehearsal', please." He set the bags down in time for a totally uncalled air quote misuse, Rachel merely laughed as she sat in front of the counter, grabbing her share and taking out its contents.

"Well… are you?" She still had to ask, a tone of betrayal in her voice. Jesse responded simply by taking off his windbreaker and tossing it to the couch. She smiles and he sits beside her as she asks, "No meat?"

"I don't even know why I buy you your breakfast and coffee when you ask me to." He rolls his eyes and rests both elbows on the counter smugly, "Pass me mine?"

The two spent that Saturday morning talking about Rachel's playbill, their upcoming plays, a record deal that was offered to both of them, only Rachel would be the main focus, which Jesse would never agree to, and with that, the latter completely forgot about the blast he received from '' attached: a photo of Quinn Fabray.

/

The elevator at the Rose Tower lifted an approximate of eight hundred people per day, and eighty percent of them, Blair didn't care about. Today, one .001% had crossed the line, emerging from the doors in his classic charcoal gray suit, combined with a red inner dress shirt and jet black tie was a Chuck Bass who was eager to get in.

"Whoa. What the hell are you doing here?" Blair yells as a hand is automatically raised in front of his face like a sign that hits a windshield.

"Don't flatter yourself, _Waldorf_. I came to see your betrothed." He says the words with such implications of disgust and hatred, and for once, Blair believed what he said, and she was indeed flattered.

"Daniel!" She turns around to see him looking through a swatch board; he looks at her as she calls to him and notices Chuck standing by the doors, hands forming an X right above his belt. Blair moves and she links their arms and the couple speaks to the man in red.

"I'm afraid this is more of adult talk, miss." Chuck says, this time lowering his hand to meet Blair's abdomen, his free hand moving to the button of his coat as he undoes and redoes it, a cycle of sort, _for the physiologically ill and neurotic_.

"It's fine, Chuck." Dan swatted the man's arm back to its original place, and where it stayed for the rest of their conversation. "We've got the permit and everything. We just need your signature." He pulls out a piece of paper folded in four from the back of his jean pocket and hands it to Chuck who signs it painfully slow as he eyes Blair who's leaning into her fiancé's arm, the look of pure joy evident.

"Oh and one more thing; do you guys mind if I invite Rachel over later?"

"Did Chuck Bass just actually ask us if he could bring his little girlfriend to our party?" Blair teases; her face indescribable as she had her '_Oh my God'_ face on.

"You don't have to ask, Chuck.." Dan agrees, "…you know, as long as she's wearing clothes, okay?"

"Great." He says, exits, and smiles at Blair just as the connecting doors come to a close.

/

After breakfast and its proper disposal, Jesse and Rachel decided to watch the news before heading off to work, she curled into one side of the couch, pillow between her body as Jesse watched from the other, definitely at a relaxed position.

Soon enough, the man had gotten to bed as local news flashes showed pictures of Blair Waldorf and Dan Humphrey arranging their suite, Rachel smiled and watched with intent. She loved Blair Waldorf's designs, and even though her maniac stalker Chuck Bass shared everything with the _other_ brunette before she came to her senses and opened her eyes to the Humphrey, she still adored Blair. Sure they'd met at a couple of galas and performances, but other on that, the judgment was based purely on what she sees (_and occasionally reads_) on TV.

She notices also that Jesse had fallen asleep with his cheek connected to his knuckles, standing atop the arm rest.

His phone was just at the side table beside him, if she were really quiet, she'd be able to grab his phone without waking her up. She tiptoed lightly, but before she knew it a hand was on her forearm.

"You seriously don't trust me on this one?" Jesse accused, faking a yawn.

"Your actions at the moment seem to prove my point." She looks at their connecting hand and arm, "What are you hiding from me, Jesse?" She pouts.

Just then, her phone plays off a recording of one of her originals on broadway. It was a call, and she gave Jesse a death glare, signifying that it wasn't over, and it really wasn't, by a long shot. She answered it annoyed, only to have her mood changed by one Chuck Bass.

/

"What do you mean I have to go shopping with Serena?" Quinn argued as she browsed through her favorite magazine again.

"It's just a formality. She wants to make sure all my dates are sedated before I go with them." Nate enters his own room, toast and coffee in each hand. "I made some more outside if you wanted any."

"That's very sweet, Archibald. Thank you." Quinn smiles and sets the reading article down beside her. Closing the space they had she rests her head on his lap as he placed his coffee on the night table.

"You don't want to go, do you?"

"I've learned that lying makes things worse if that's what you mean." He let out a sigh as he finished the toast, surprisingly leaving no signs of crumbs or waste.

"Well, to survive this hell hole, that's what you have to do, Quinn."

"I've gathered." She says in a somewhat defeatist attitude as she closes her eyes.

/

"Well?" Jesse asks as soon as Rachel puts her phone away, her expression unreadable, which was odd.

"Chuck."

"I've picked that up long before you did, sweetie."

"He said he was sorry for what happened yesterday." She sits beside him and pulls the pillow as if it'd take away the pain her eyes conveyed after she said that.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rachel? Sue the bastard!"

"He said it was post-traumatic stress. The day his dad died, you know, and he was drunk too."

"You must really like this guy because you're defending him… _to me_. I'm Jesse _freaking_ St. James."

"I know…" Rachel sighs, burying her face in her hands.

"But I'm your best friend first, Rachel." He consoles, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You have to trust me on these things, and that Chuck guy isn't good for you at all." He tries to reason, but if anyone knew Rachel, they'd know the first thing about her.

Once she has her mind set on something, it's officially a part of the hunt, and Chuck Bass was one of them.

"You believe him too, don't you?"

"I believe it's your fault that he acted this way too! He saw you with me, and you were holding on to me like I was a life preserver or something!" Her voice was getting louder, and Jesse really didn't want to argue this early, but he couldn't let it slide either. He stood up to level with her, but she was grabbing for her coat, keys, and wallet.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" He grabs her arm, pleading her to stop acting this way using only his eyes. "Rachel, please."

"I'm sorry, Jesse. But you're wrong this time." She leaves, and for the first time, Jesse St. James is wordless.

/

_New York, New York_

"Hey, you must be Quinn." Serena says as she invites Quinn for a hug which turns into an awkward handshake followed by a dismissive introduction, and after that the two blondes are walking New York like they own it.

Literally, it felt like a cheesy 2005 Music Video.

The two stopped after three hours of nonstop walking and decided to rest on the edge of a fountain, dozens of paper bags in hand and an ice cream cone for each. They've been trying dresses like it was their own wedding days, which Quinn indeed wished it was, and if she didn't have a husband yet, she could always pay Nate to act as a trophy husband, right?

"That was really fun. Who knew you knew how to choose?" Serena smiles, licking her ice cream like a child.

"Yeah, I'm bushed." Quinn answers, smiling sincerely at the other blonde.

"I like you."

"Pardon?" Quinn almost choked.

"..for Nate, of course." She chuckles at the fact she even considered Quinn was... gay.

"Oh, of course."

/

"Okay, Rachel. Seriously, you can't show up to my house looking like chicken shit and proceed to ask me for fashion advice. What's wrong with you?" Screamed a very angry Mercedes Jones, who still was looking as fly as ever.

"Please, Mercedes."

"You're lucky I own a shop in New York, and you're even luckier to have me around. What if I was in Boston? Or Moscow?" Rachel gets it, she was successful, and she was sick of hearing it from her mouth. Why the hell was she so cranky anyway? It was 11 in the morning; nothing should disrupt her mood yet.

"Yes, Mercedes, I owe you big time, okay?" She hugged the other diva, recalling the few moments in high school when she did the same. There weren't very many, but she remembered the time she gave her ballad to the diva at hand.

"You could come pick it up by five." Mercedes then proceeds to write a note and attaches it to a hanger.

"Thank you so much!" Rachel proclaims once more before she exits, hearing the bell of the door chime when her eye catches it. The distinct color…

_Blonde._

* * *

**A/N: So I've decided to cut it here for painstakingly awful reasons, but I've got the next scenes planned in my head. So much for the Faberry fluff, huh?  
A/N2: I also cut the first part of Nate and Quinn, realizing that it's already been done in the previous chapter. **


	4. Three, The Devil's Waterloo

Two hours before everyone's fate would be tested during the Waldorf-Humphrey engagement anniversary. Blair knew that others would wonder why postpone a year to have your own wedding, but she herself couldn't answer the question. Dan didn't seem to mind, because he's fallen for the girl, but he still had doubts in his mind that his fiancé still loved her former flame.

"Oh Daniel, has it really been a year?" Blair says as she pulls him in closer using his tie alone.

"Blair, two hours to the party." He admonishes, but gives in to her actions anyways. She cups his face tenderly and connects their lips, he pushes her gently on top of their bed and she fumbles with the buttons of his shirt.

"Plenty of time." She smiles as Dan wonders if he has any hesitations himself. He then remembers one thing.

_Blonde._

/

"So how did it go, Quinn?" A faint voice says from the back part of the apartment.

"Nate? Where are you?" Serena replies as Quinn shuts the door behind them.

"It was great." Quinn said after.

"Serena? Hey." He hugs the taller blonde. "I'm sure you enjoyed my lovely lady's company." He raises his eyebrows at Quinn as she chuckles. "You wouldn't have come over if you hadn't."

"Please, Nate. She's perfect!" Serena giggles, half-whispering it to his ear as the other two share a knowing glance.

"I'm still here, guys." Quinn complains, setting the shopping bags down, Serena's phone buzzes on cue.

"So hey, I'll see you later, okay?" Serena says checking the message she gives both a kiss on each cheek with hers' and leaves. Being Blair Waldorf's best friend definitely meant being busy during the times they surely had something to celebrate about, but she sure wasn't too happy about any tasks that took place a year ago today.

Quinn and Nate shares a look of relief as the front door slams shut, finally able to remove the masks they wear in front of hundreds of people.

/

Her phone had been buzzing almost a million times, and Chuck wondered why Rachel wouldn't answer it. She'd simply reply that it was some stalker, and he offered to block that dick's number for the rest of eternity, when in reality it was actually Jesse St. James who was trying to hit her head with some sense.

She knew he was always right, but if this didn't feel right, then she'd always be wrong from now on.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" Chuck says as he shrugs her arm closer to him, linked for the paparazzi to see. The diva was wearing a white long sleeved blouse, denim, and cream boots, as he was wearing his maroon pinstripe; they wanted to look presentable for their own images. He didn't want a scandal right after his big break at the empire; he wanted to treat Rachel right, so he asked her out two hours before the sickening pit known to him as the Waldorf-Humphrey party.

"Nothing, really." She opts not to say, fearing that the feral Chuck she'd encountered moments ago, more like 3AM, exactly. He stopped in his tracks and her heart beat wildly in fear. "Why, is there anything wrong with you?"

"I called you out to say I'm sorry." He turns to face her as her heart moves faster and faster she thinks she might cry. "That Jesse boy you were with, he's your… friend, back in high school he was your boyfriend. I really just wanted to make sure you were alright." He smiles, and she does too, he untangles their arms and offers his hand for her to take, and she does.

But in the back of her mind she knew something was wrong. No one knew about Jesse's miniature excursion from Carmel to McKinley in Rachel's arms, unless they actually saw it themselves, so how did Chuck find out?

Easy, he had her background checked, which made her slightly uncomfortable. She only wished she had someone who understood her now, and she saw someone that would that day, and it wasn't Mercedes Jones.

"Look, I have to pick up my dress for later." Rachel frees herself from Chuck, "But I'll see you later, okay?" She bravely takes a step closer and gives his lips a taste of hers, as flashes come from the bushes, capturing one private moment she immediately regretted.

/

Mindless preparations have gotten out of control, especially since the caterer said they'd be an hour late since they were still stuck in New Jersey. Blair wanted the best of the best and since none of New York could top that of a somewhat lower state (she thinks New York's one of the world's finest, but definitely not in food catering) she opted to bring NJ to NY, just for this one occasion, she thought.

Dan on the other hand was as cool as could be, he didn't want to jinx out anything he had planned before this. The plan was, to give a speech, to toast to love, and live happily ever after, so why was he having other thoughts at the back of his mind?

"Honey?" a small brunette appears before him, two glasses occupying both of her hands, "You need a drink," she coos as he pecks her lips. The two run over the details on the small clipboard and argued about the littlest things. Dan mostly gave way, because he loved Blair more than getting his way, and she knew, because even though they constantly bickered, their hands never left each other.

Dan's phone buzzed in the middle of contemplating whether or not to serve mini quiche to go with the alcohol. It was Chuck, Blair asked what it was about and he answered two words, "Rachel Berry."

"Oh so she's really coming here?" Blair didn't want to believe it, the poison mixed in her voice evident.

Dan only shrugged, suggesting they get back to work.

/

Mercedes Jones was definitely one of the most prominent names in the fashion world, her clothing line 'Elegance and Sparks' won her numerous awards from recognizable designers and companies as well. She worked all over the world, and to think that she was only 24 gave them the impression of her absolutely creative and inspired mindset.

That also meant that she was almost impossible to book, unless you're a Class-A celebrity, of course.

Her shop in New York, New York was the third one she established, the first two being in Lima and Los Angeles respectively, and she was definitely proud saying that it's the one that rolls in most of the dough. Also, it's where she meets the most prominent of people, and she didn't really expect Rachel Berry calling in six hours prior just to get a dress for some party.

A limousine appears in front of the store and Mercedes rolls her eyes as she tapes the paper on the coat hanger. Rachel's dress was done an hour ago, but Mercedes didn't bother to text or call since Rachel might've been busy.

"Hello?" the door pushes open, thus a sound of a bell is heard, Rachel glances above her to see a golden bell that had hit the door frame moments ago. She wonders why she hasn't noticed it during her first visit.

"Rachel, over here." Mercedes proclaims, although she has this irrational irritation for the diva, she was trying to be calm and polite, so Rachel wouldn't notice.

It was irrational; she didn't know where it was all coming from.

The diva moved through stacks and shelves of fabric, cloth, buttons, zippers, etc amazed by it all as she almost knocks over a mannequin that had a very familiar dress on it. She gently touches the hem of the skirt in wonder as Mercedes observes her like she was a child in a toy store.

Of course the diva would react that way.

"Our 2011 Regionals Outfit." It was barely a whisper. Rachel's eyes conveyed a thousand emotions. By this time, everything Mercedes felt about the diva ten minutes ago was gone. The designer stands beside the diva and basks in the memory of that day, they won, they shoved it in Vocal Adrenaline's faces, and they felt better than they ever have to be part of Glee, it was one of the best moments the club of misfits shared.

"It's a best seller." Mercedes says, patting her hand on Rachel's shoulder as a tear slides away from the shorter girl's face. "That one's Quinn's. She gave it to me a couple of months ago to re-make."

"Quinn's here?" Rachel's eyes dart towards Mercedes, so maybe she wasn't crazy when she caught a whiff of blonde moments ago. On the other hand, Mercedes is reminded of the time Quinn had dropped it off to her, asking the fashionista not to mention it to anyone she knew that she'd been residing in New York for quite a while.

"Nope, she's somewhere in the Atlantic." Mercedes lies, very poorly if anyone but Rachel would notice. The latter was too caught up in the loss of hope because of the blonde, and Mercedes knows, because she suddenly wants to blurt out that it was a lie.

"Oh." The diva says disheartened, just as her phone rings.

/

"Did you actually stop the press from releasing that story of Rachel and Chuck?" Nate asks Quinn as the two watched the news, hearing nothing about the aforementioned topic. Quinn bit her lower lip and squint her eyes at the empty inbox her phone had, so far, so good.

"I _surely_ didn't work on it."

"Did Quinn Fabray actually say no to work? Isn't that your life?"

"Shut up, Nate."

The gossip segment surely was a buzz since they played an actual alarm tested for earthquake and fire drills combined. It was _that_ loud, all because of some breaking news in NYC. A picture then flashes on screen, a woman in a white long sleeved cotton blouse, denim, and cowboy boots pressing her lips to a man in a maroon suit.

Nate pressed the off button as Quinn stared blankly into the TV.

"I'm getting ready for the party." Quinn says as she parts from Nate's den.

/

Back at Chuck's suite, there was a man wearing a cream suit sitting on the leather sofa comfortably. He had a brandy glass a quarter filled with some of the best drinks Chuck had stored in the open bar for himself and himself alone. So it'd be safe to assume Chuck's reaction once he gets out of the elevator and sees the intruder.

"I thought I gave security your picture." The owner of the suite says coolly.

"Bet you didn't know they rotate the guards every six months."

"Has it been that long since I've seen you?"

"Oh, trust me it's been _longer_. I heard you were doing great, I just wanted to come by and say hi."

"Well, get out. I don't want you near me, or my building." Chuck's nostrils flared, the other man in question was getting on his nerves simply by showing his courage. It made Chuck feel weak, and he never was a fan of that.

The man stood up and pushes out his shoulders arrogantly. "Don't you miss me, Chuck?"

"Get out, Blaine."

"Why?" Blaine then faces the man, his eyes darting his, "I thought you'd enjoy a surprise visit."

"What do you want?" Chuck's eyes squinted, his arms outstretched for a more dramatic effect.

"I want you to uninvite Rachel to the Waldorf-Humphrey Party." It was straight, concise. Blaine knew what he wanted, and smiles more like the devil than Chuck ever has.

"Or what?" Chuck doesn't back down. He isn't threatened, but he was wrong.

Blaine straightens his coat, and closes one button, his hands staying where they are. His features were blank for a moment, but after a second or so the smile returns, "…or you come out tonight."

Chuck lowers his face at the man, as the other smiles back eerily. He gives out an angry sigh, but believes Blaine's accusation, his teeth crunches hardly as Blaine digs his hands in his pocket, giving a look that said _'I'm waiting'. _Chuck takes his phone out of the pocket and dials Rachel's number.

/

Ten minutes in the party, and everyone was complaining because there was no mini quiche. That's the Upper East Side way of showing affection, complaint. Dan was worried about Blair because she kept insisting that the party's going to end in turmoil, something Dan didn't get. Everything was perfect. Well, except for the late caterers.

He searched the throng of bodies for his fiancé, and wondered why there were so many people that showed up. Sure, he was very popular for his book. But he knew most of the people that gave him praise, not because there were only a few, but because he cared, just like any other author trying to change the mindset of the public he wrote for. He smiled at those who did know him, and then he began noticing men with cameras, like the paparazzi or some other low class men who did stalking jobs as a favor.

He suddenly realized that Rachel Berry was arriving at the loft, and wondered how these guys got in.

Blair descended from the stairs and met his gaze with the same worry evident on her face. Dan knows where this is going as her stride grows shorter, and she huffs her breath.

"What the hell is this?" She screams, the attention is turned on her when flashes of light spark before her. Questions about her relationship with Rachel Berry, Chuck's new girlfriend and why she was invited to this event were thrown from one end of the crowd, Blair's head was about to explode, and some massive Waldorf shit was about to be unleashed on the innocent people who were doing their jobs.

"Everyone, get out." A collected voice says from the confines of an opening elevator. The crowd stirred and began taking photos of him coming out of the elevator His facial expression hard; and a very determined look on his face gave everyone the go signal to leave. "She's not coming." His nostrils flared, the shots stopped coming, there was a dead silence in the room as the butlers and maids escorted the paparazzi and other miscellaneous fans who were hoping to see the diva out of the home of the couple.

There was a mess of footprints and other random pieces of New York City that Blair swore that if she saw once again in her life, she'd burn using the nearest natural materials that would create a fire.

/

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" Jesse St. James screams into the phone. "I asked if she checked in the suite. I'm sure you bloody know who Rachel Barbara Berry is!"

The clerk at the lobby of the Rose Tower tried asking the security guards, she was obviously new, fumbling and clumsily knocking over desk items as she cracked under pressure. A security guard then shook his head after looking out the glass pane of the building, no one was there, and Jesse was getting annoyed.

"We're sorry Sir. No one by the name of Rachel Berry has signed in." The clerk says innocently, so she mustn't have really known who Rachel was. Jesse sighs, he was tired of looking for his best friend because he'd stayed in her apartment all day. Why? Because she might come back.

And so far she hasn't, and he really needed a coffee.

/

The party was in full swing, socialites and friends to the Upper East Side, hired and featured photographers, interviewers, the occasional maniac tabloid journalist who'd do anything to get an article. But that's why there were guards scattered the suite. Penthouse, of course. Blair Waldorf (soon to be Humphrey) would take no less.

Present now to the event was Nate Archibald, looking mighty dashing in his white Armani suit, and his date, a blonde who was just asleep in the said suite moments ago. She was wearing a black knee high dress, something she picked out with the best friend of the owner of the house, Serena van der Woodsen, who is also the step sister of the other owner. She was wearing a periwinkle gown that looked like a blanket at first, but once the fabric flowed when she moved, it looked as elegant as anything you'd see on Rodeo, which they presume is where she got it from. Last but definitely not the least member of the non-judgmental breakfast club, was Chuck Bass, still in that dark shade in his life. He was brooding in a corner, champagne in hand, quickly replaced by stronger drinks as waiters and servers passed him. He didn't even look at them anymore, just dropped his current glass on their trays, and grabbed the next one his fingers reached.

Cyrus Rose arrived with Aaron, his son from the first family and immediately greeted all guests. Blair ran to him and gave him a hug. Over the years, Blair had been closer to the man, especially since he had lost the most important woman of his life to breast cancer. They shared a mutual hollowness, but to Blair it was considered inevitable, but why did it happen too soon? Parents were to die before their children; no one prepared her for a bastard called _cancer_.

Sure, she and her mom were never as close as any of those middle class families who had traditions filled with love and emotion. She had her mom during times of financial aid and passionate discovery of talent. She knew her mom loved her, and she made sure Eleanor knew it too.

They worked fine that way.

During the moments of her weakness and vulnerability, Chuck had begun his grueling obsession over that on the rise broadway diva while Dan was there to pry, even though she told him to go away. She told him he didn't understand how it felt to lose someone that was so important to his life, and that he was just another reporter, trying to get the goods on what she'd do with her mom's will and testament. Dan wanted to prove her wrong and danced with her in the hospital corridor that night, even though her face was drenched in tears, they danced and she just held on to him like he was the only thing in the world.

That was the time Dan Humphrey acknowledged the fact that Blair Waldorf had a soul.

Cyrus hugged her back with much force and the two caught up as Dan greeted him with a smile. Cyrus really loved him, because Dan had been there for Blair when no one else was. Serena was in Europe with a guy named Puck, who serves as Cruise Ship Head Bartender and their occasional Guitar playing hero, but we'll save that story for another time. Dan was literally the only other person who saw Blair during the times she needed to be seen and loved, and now that the world had turned right for them, they had found themselves in each other, and they were happy.

The couple soon found another couple who gave them a hug. This time it was the man's father, Rufus Humphrey, and his wife, Lily Humphrey. The two shared stories of how today was going so far, and Lily reminded Blair about Chuck, and she instantly eyed him across the room, eyeing up women who passed him, occasionally touching, but had the women a shred of self-respect, and it wouldn't have gone that far. Blair felt sorry for them.

Chuck's eyes were bloodshot, and Blair is reminded of his date that wasn't coming for some unknown reason, Chuck looked sad, but deep down she knew it was more than because this Rachel person stood him up. Chuck was still hung up on her and the only to fix that was to speak to him.

Okay, maybe without Dan yet.

"Excuse me, hon." Blair kissed her fiancé's cheek and nodded at Rufus and Lily, gliding through the crowd in a ballerina's steps. Dan didn't question her motives during a party, mostly because she was always right, but this time, he could've given this one a little more thought.

/

Nate and Quinn were ten minutes into the party and bored out of their minds. They tried socializing with Nate's old friends and acquaintances, but the guys wouldn't take their eyes of Quinn's chest, and the girls would constantly flirt with Nate, which didn't technically drive Quinn mad with jealousy, but she had to _act _like she was fuming and furious.

Half an hour had passed and both of them were on their fourth drink, Dan offered a toast to his beloved from above the steps and a spotlight was shined on Blair. She blushed and scoffed, and the two dove into a five second kiss. The audience cheered and more drinks were given out, after five more minutes, Dan gave a speech about Blair.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, "The first time I met the woman I hold in my arms at this very moment," he pulled Blair closer and squeezed her body to his. "I was utterly displeased." The crowd was shocked and Blair had a blank stare in her face, trying to recall that moment, "It was during brunch, and I punched Chuck Bass in the face. Where are you, Chuck?" The crowd turned to him and he left the scene, annoyed, Dan continued, "Well, basically I thought she was horrible because she looked at me like scum of the Upper East Side, trying to fit in because of my interest in someone whom she held dear in her heart." Blair looked at Serena, who returned a more jovial stare at her. "And that's when I knew that this woman, how physically attractive she may be, oh and trust me, I _did_ notice..." It was Dan's signature innuendo tone, familiar only to those around him for more than a span of one year. The crowd laughed, because those said people did.

Nate and Quinn were captured by the beauty of words that came out of his mouth, and they just stood there, listening in awe.

"That's when I knew," Dan's face hinted a smile, yet it looked like he was recalling a very good memory, which they trusted that it was, "that Blair Waldorf would give up an appearance of kindness and trust, to protect those she cared about." Blair felt a tear slide down her cheek and she wiped it off with her free hand. "And maybe we did become enemies after a while, but… it was all worth it." Dan looked at her now, "And after spending a year engaged to you, my beautiful Queen, all my first impressions of you have been erased from memory." The couple kissed and there was a peaceful silence in the crowd, it felt like prayer.

Quinn wiped a few tears herself as Nate wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple.

/

"I'm still going to that party. Chuck Bass thinks he could _harass_ me, then ask me out, then make me hope I'd be accepted by the norms of his society, then maybe, just maybe I'd even consider going steady with him?" Rachel bursts out as she enters her apartment. Jesse stood up from the sofa trying to reach her before she's gone again and pulls her into a hug.

"Oh my fucking God. Are you okay?" he asks, Rachel squirms to his touch, "Jesus Christ, Rachel!"

"What the flying…" Rachel says as she pushes him away, "Does it look like I'm fucking okay?" She curses, rage flowing through her veins, "God, Chuck Bass is such an asshole!"

"No, not that… look!" Jesse says as he switches the television on. It showed the Rose Tower front, surrounded by thousands of fans, looking for Rachel Berry. There were interviews, paparazzi, and as a limousine appears before them (that evidently belonged to Chuck Bass) the crowd parted, though flashes and photos of him were taken. He then announced that Rachel had more important matters to attend to.

"Someone set me up." Rachel says, and Jesse nods her head at her. "He did this to protect me."

"You could still go," her best friend then suggests, "There's a window, though. I can get Jose to carpool you-" He couldn't continue because she tackled him in a hug.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I'm so very sorry that I updated slower than your grandmother, but school and all that jazz. Also since it's almost bed time, I had no heart to beta this. I'll check it tomorrow though. Please R&R as usual!**

**A/N2: I've also noticed that you guys seem to be indecisive about the ships on here, and since it's obvious that you have to watch both shows to really understand what's going on, I've been getting some comments about who should end up with who, so I'm saying this now: I'm giving every pair a shot in this, okay? It's all fair game.**


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